


In a Rut

by teaandchess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, F/M, Knotting, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, angels as pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5403449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Security sales person Meg buys a pet angel named Castiel who shows just a wee bit more intelligence than she planned. Not to mention being right in his mating season and downright possessive over his mistress.</p><p>angels as pets, slightly dub!con, angels in rut, mating, animalistic goings ons. Don’t read if it gives you the squicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Rut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Qzil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzil/gifts), [bloodandcream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/gifts).



Meg should have known that buying a mature angel was going to be a problem. She should have bought one of those nestlings; get it young, let it spring up with growth hormones and train it proper from its fledgling stages. That’s what her father would have done and Azazel was a master trainer. He had told her he’d pay for her first angel, considering she was finally twenty-eight and of age to own one, and brought her to his rival’s breeding farm out of state. He didn’t want her own one of his ‘demon brood’ as he called them, said that they wouldn’t pose the right kind of challenge as they knew her. Besides, Meg had talent with angels. She hoped to one day teach them to be just like humans, except deadlier, and hoped to make money from it. She knew that hiding behind the some-time feral nature was true intelligence lurking.

So, like the fool she was, she’d gone and picked the most stubborn angel on the Eden eyrie who was one of the last remaining from Garrison brood. He had all the right breeding, all the right things in all the right places that would have made her the envy of any man or woman who flew angels. But he was stubborn as hell. Since bringing him home, he’d already roosted on the top of her bookcase and been growling at her for the better part of four hours. Meg had sought to dodge him but he’d swipe at her if she came near and he had untucked his wings to furl out and encompass more than half of her living room, swirling them around and threatening her.

“Stupid angel,” she snapped and reached for her phone. Her dad chastised her immediately. She’d picked a mature, set in his ways angel. Of course he’d give her trouble. She either just needed to show him who was boss or cajole him down with her.

Judging by the size of those wings and the loud rumbling warnings he was giving, Meg decided to try honey over vinegar. Heading into the kitchen grabbed his packaged vegetables from the container marked “Castiel” and pushed it into a bowl.

“Come on, cloudhopper, down you come,” she called out. “Don’t make Meg come in there after you.”

She peered over the island in the kitchen and saw him craning his neck down to look at her. His feathers were ruffled up and the blue-black tips quivered with each movement. His wings were tucked up tight to his back and he was making faint grumbling noises. The black wings swept close to his sides to show his wariness and as she scooped up a handful of the smoky meat and ambrosia, she made pleased noises that caused his eyes to narrow in suspicion.

“Good for you, come on.”

Gingerly, he leapt to the ground and started for her. Even from the distance, she could hear his stomach making strange noises and knew he was starving. It been a long haul in the back of her car and he’d been tranquilized for most of it. He still looked ready to jump out of his skin but she knew he couldn’t get far if he tried. The sigil collar would keep him from escaping and his wings had the bells to weigh him down and keep him from flying. The restraints attached the cuffs on his legs trailed behind him as he came into the kitchen. Meg snapped her fingers and pointed at the nearest chair.

“Sit.” Still obstinate, he glared down at her and his wings flared up again. Meg put more steel in her voice and snapped her fingers again. “I said sit.”

He went to snatch the bowl from her hands and she jerked her hands back. “Sit down and you can eat.”

He tittered, vocal cords straining and she wondered if he was from the lineage that could mimic voices. That’d be cool, she thought as she gestured to the floor. Then, with a loud thump and groan, he sat on the linoleum floor and stared up at her. Rebellion sparked in those eyes but he did as he was told at least. He did have pretty bird eyes, though they were bright blue instead of the standard brown. So he might not be breeding worthy because of that but Meg liked him anyway. Thought he was pretty singular.

That was until he began to gorge on the food with sloppy licks and grunts and she wrinkled her nose. Definitely he would take some work.

#

It was several months before Meg could trust her angel enough to take him to the flight park. It had been a hard few months too; angels were harder than cats to train. She finally had him heeling and staying at her side. He growled and snapped at her and it was clear he wanted his freedom and that confining him to a house was cruel, but she had no choice. He couldn’t be trusted otherwise in the first weeks. So she kept him close as she worked on her home business and eventually he started to calm. He liked to roost on her bookcase and slept long hours on his fluffy nest of blankets, and on the whole Meg enjoyed trying to tame him. He ate at set times, went for walks around her backyard, and finally stopped growling at her. Instead, he resorted to watching her like a proverbial hawk with those unsettling eyes of his.

She had only just been able to pet him today, to ruffle his wings and hair affectionately, and that was what made her decide to try the flight park.

It was a big risk and she knew she could live to regret it later if he winged off. It cost thousands to get agents after lost angels and she’d have to go crawling to her master trainer of a father for help.

Still, seeing how happy he was as he walked at his side, his hand looped through hers, touched a soft part of Meg she normally denied having. Her job was tracking people and that was his purpose, to be her guard angel in case work ever followed her home. Didn’t hurt to have him seeming loyal right now. She just needed to keep him fed and happy.

He grumbled something and she glanced up at him to find his eyes were on the angels flying above the tree tops and playing. With the weighted bells on his wings, he couldn’t just fly off. Under his t-shirt and sweatpants, he was tense. Meg reached out and touched his side, petting him over his Enochian insignia that said his name and whom he belonged to.

“Come on, Clarence.” He bristled at the nickname she’d given him but Meg reached out and touched the sweet spot between his wings. Almost immediately he quivered and moaned, pressing back into her hand. Meg scratched him gently and grinned. “Let’s show you off. Can’t wait to see their faces because I’ve got a gorgeous angel now.”

She put her hands on the straps around his shoulders and gently removed the bells from his wings. He stiffened from head to toe again and realized he was free. Almost immediately his wings spread out and he shot up into the sky, leaving her behind. She watched him, shielding her eyes as he went towards the sun. He seemed so happy and from the distance she heard his loud scream of joy. He didn’t seem like he would ever come down.

It made her feel a little lonely.

“Masters, get a new toy?” She turned to see Sam and Dean Winchester, two master angelers, coming towards her. Dogging their steps were their angels from the same litter born sometime before Castiel. Michael and Lucifer were nasty pieces of work and were possessive over their masters. But Meg couldn’t resist ribbing the Winchesters anyway.

“Jealous, boys?”

Dean was looking up at Castiel. “You bought one of Chuck’s stock, eh. I nearly bought that one before Dad convinced me to buy Michael instead. Said he wasn’t aggressive enough.”

“Only had him a few months?” Sam asked to cover for his brother’s passive aggressive slight.

“Yeah. Still feelin’ each other. Dad said he should be a snap to train,” she lied.

Castiel was swooping and spiralling through the sky and with an almost smug grin, Dean took the bells off of Michael to send his own angel up. Meg started to walk around, not especially wanting to socialize. She lived alone by choice, trying to get her freelancing to take off, and dealing with people tended to bring out the nasty side to her. She had to be stronger, smarter, than that, her dad was always saying. Her obvious stand-offish tension didn’t put one of the Winchesters off and Sam fell into step beside her.

“Want to know a good trick for getting their wings in?” He gestured at the back of his neck. “Here. Just rub a circle and their wings tuck back into their bodies.”

“Seriously?” Meg eyed him. “Why’re you so interested?”

“Might be rivals but I like to see angels treated well. And yours looks special,” he said. “Just give it a try.”

“Sure thing, Moose. Then I can kick your asses at the time trials.” Sam laughed at the threat.

“Good luck. Luci has won it four years in a row, eh little fella?” Sam ruffled the wings of his angel around. There was a loud purr of pleasure but Lucifer still didn’t stop sending Meg warning looks. “Oh, and watch out for ruts in the matures. They don’t do much, just get aggressive, but it’ll drive you nuts.”

“Yeah sure…” Meg broke off and squinted up at Castiel. Michael and he were on a collision course and neither was backing down. “Hey!”

Dean had noticed as well and he gave a piercing whistle. Michael’s wings dipped down and he appeared ready to go off course but instead he shot forward and slammed his shoulder into Castiel’s stomach, sending the other angel down. Meg whistled repeatedly but Castiel only recovered and beat his wings hard, lurching forward and grabbing hold of Michael by the neck. They twisted in the air and Meg watched in shock as Castiel’s teeth flashed and caught Michael by the soft throat.

“Goddamn it, call him off!” Dean screamed at her before he whistled again. Meg could only stare as the two angels plummeted to the earth and hit the ground with an earth-spraying thunk. They still growled at one another, their sturdy bones surviving the impact easily. They started scrapping instantly, using trimmed nails and blunted teeth to try to rend into one another.

“And I thought Lucifer was aggressive,” Sam said and he immediately grabbed hold of Lucifer’s collar to stop him from joining the fray. Frustrated, the angel turned on his master and swung his wings out. Meg took one to the chest and it startled the breath out of her chest at its weight and power. Lucifer snapped at her and growled, and before Sam could stop him he leapt.

As blood pounded in her ears and veins, she heard a loud scream that she was growing to know and her vision dilated in her eyes as Lucifer knocked her to the ground and growled in her face in warning.

“Goddamn it, Luc, get off!” Dean was yelling and Meg twisted under the angel’s bulk. She swung her knee up and slammed it into his groin, sending the creature sprawling from her as he howled in pain. Then a shadow fell over her and a weight pressed her down into the mucky earth, something vibrating through her back as she tried to push up.

“Easy, easy,” Sam was whispering and Meg opened her eyes to see that Castiel was hovering over her, wings flared out in a protective half-circle. His body was pressing her down to the earth and he was trying to flatten himself out as much as possible to keep her covered and safe. His body bore long scratches and bruises from his tussle with Michael and a particularly vicious looking bite mark on his chest that was oozing out light and sparkling blood. The strange clicking and hissing noises made her head ache and she shoved him off.

“Get up,” she ordered and he rose to full height over her, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

“Get the tranqs. Him and Michael both need a dose.” Dean shook his head as Sam went for their supply bag. “Not sure what set them off. Michael’s out of his rut. Maybe they’re just grumpy.”

“Her angel is pretty wild,” Sam answered for Meg and she grabbed the syringe from Dean. Castiel was remarkably quiet as she inserted the needle and the moment the fluid was in his system a dopey expression spread over his face. Michael soon had a matching look on his face and Meg submitted to Sam checking her over for a concussion. Lucifer rumbled unhappily as Sam touched her and Meg resisted the urge to yank on the overstuffed turkey’s flight feathers in retaliation.

“Should be fine,” Sam pronounced. Dean shuffled his feet and shook his head.

“Shouldn’t have brought him here,” he said accusingly. “Maybe you need to train him better.”

Meg’s focus was on her angel though and as Dean ranted and railed, she ignored him.

#

She was in bed that night when she heard the loud noises from outside her bedroom. It had taken some stitching to get Castiel back to shape and she had spent the better part of two hours grooming his ruffled feathers before he finally relaxed without the tranqs. She was exhausted to the core and her head still hurt from the smack Lucifer had given her in the park. At least, she thought as she turned over in bed, the trick Sam had taught her had worked. Castiel had tucked his wings into his body with a slurping sound and now all he had to show he had wings were twin bumps at his shoulder blades.

So the noises didn’t make sense.

Groaning, she shoved the blankets down and slipped along the hardwood floor to the door. When she cracked it open, she saw Castiel curled up outside her door, his blanket curled over his body and he appeared to be dreaming. He’d murmur and mumble and then, just as she was bending to shake him awake, he gave that strange bird-like scream.

It was earsplitting enough that if she had neighbours it would have set off alarm bells but all Meg did was nudge him with her toe. “Wake up there, wings.”

He rolled to his stomach and pushed up onto all fours. Head tilting to the side to expose his neck, his wings came out with a wet plop and sprawled on either side of him as he knelt at her feet and through a haze of sleepy realization, Meg recognized the position. He was actually submitting to her and she wondered what brought it on. His entire body was quivering with fear.

“Bad dream?” she asked, not expecting a response. She crouched down and forced him to look up at her. His split lip and black-eye gave him a rough look and she grinned at the expression on his face. He was submitting to her but he wasn’t happy about it. Meg chewed on her lower lip and glanced at the blanket. Reaching out, she circled her hand on the back of his neck and, like Sam said they would, his wings tucked back into his body. Still he kept casting her those mournful eyes and it tugged at a part of her she usually hid from the world.

“Oh what the hell, come on.”

She patted her thigh and stood up, turning on her lamps as she returned to her bed before flicking on her bedroom TV. She’d PVR’d her favourite soap and it could do with another rewatch for an hour or so. Not that she ever admitted to watching soaps. Stuff like that would get you laughed at it seemed though everyone did it.

Castiel eyed her warily from his place at the door and Meg slapped the edge of the bed. “Come on: up.”

His eyes lit up and he leapt from his spot to the end of the bed. He nuzzled at her feet and Meg laughed. Then she felt his teeth against her ankle and involuntary shiver went through her.

“Let’s not get too friendly.”

As if he understood, he huffed and rolled to his side. Meg had noticed before he liked to watch television and his past owner had said it was the colours he liked. Propping her feet up on his warm back, she nestled down in her pillows and duvet before hitting play.

#

“Oh Darryl, how will I live without you?” the pretty redhead said in a breathless voice.

“You never will,” he declared passionately and from her place on the bed, Meg groaned. Terrible writing. Still, things were getting hot. The pair were mostly undressed and he was carrying his lady love to the bedroom.

She glanced down and saw Castiel’s gaze riveted on the screen.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she teased and he huffed, burrowing down in the blanket she’d tossed over him until only the blue of his eyes showed through the dark fabric. Still he was watching her soap opera. Meg wiggled her toes against his back and then happily snuggled down to watch the sex scene. It was painfully lacking in chemistry though and the actor was just starting to kiss down the woman’s throat when Meg’s eyes closed and she drifted off still propped up against her pillows.

She woke feeling something warm nuzzling her neck. Sleepily, she slid her arm up a hard muscled back and stroked soft hair. The warmth at her neck drifted down her chest to her stomach and still mostly asleep she turned over onto her back. Then she felt something wet drag through the buttons of her shirt and she squinted her eyes open to see Castiel curled up in her lap, his head resting on her stomach. He was lapping at her skin with innocent affection and when she tensed he made his strange purring noise. Still he didn’t seem to realize she was awake.

Then she felt something hard pushing against her calf and she glanced down further to see he subtly rubbing against her.

Then it started to click into place. His fight with Michael, his protectiveness of her, his submission. Sam had said something about rut and Meg’s own experience had been more with females than males. She just assumed he’d be humping her furniture and other angels. Instead, Castiel seemed to see her as a prospective mate, no matter the species difference.

Not that she wasn’t just a little bit curious. There were people, her father said, who kept angels for sex but they had to get a type of consent first from the angels themselves, as per the strange laws that dictated them, but angels were rarely attracted to humans. Definitely felt like her guard dog of an angel was eager. But something burrowed in the pit of her stomach, a kernel of doubt, and she kept her eyes closed.

He whined against her stomach and then settled down.

#

Things changed after the episode in the park and Meg would have been pleased if she wasn’t so puzzled about the actions of her pet angel. Now he kept almost glued to her side, stopped roosting so much on the bookcase and constantly pressed into her. His bites became affectionate rather than surly and he would nudge at her for strokes. Even his wings stayed tucked in more, a display of submission, and when she worked at her computer through the day he slept on her feet and played with the hem of her pants. No aggression, nothing like she might have expected from a mature going into rut.

It was as if someone had snapped him out of his aggressive behaviour.

The sleeping on the end of her bed continued and Meg constantly woke through the night to find him perched on the railing, staring at her with bright eyes. His wings only came out at night and he groomed himself with meticulous care, but when she went to dispose of the discarded feathers he would only go through the garbage and put the feathers onto his nest of pillows and blankets in the living room. While she watched TV, he’d curl up there and Meg would feel him staring at her the entire time.

She called Sam when it started to creep her out all the more and he came over to see for himself. He took one look at the nest, at the angel eyeing him warily from the top of the bookcase, wings unfurled in warning, and laughed.

“I think he has a crush on you. He’s just being protective.”

“Seriously?” Meg had a hard time admitting to this. “I caught him rubbing up against me one night.”

“Lucifer still does that. No big deal, just tell him down and he’ll get it. It’s just they miss their eyrie sometimes so they tend to make a nest of their home. You should see my place when I let Lucifer have his own way. It’s their way of marking what’s theirs. I ignore it now. I know Dean uses a spritz bottle to keep Michael down.” He shrugged. “You only trained females before?”

“Dad insisted. But Castiel is mine.”

The angel stared at her very intently, his mouth working though no sound came out.

Sam grinned and nudged her shoulder with his. “Remember when we were kids in opposite gangs and you trotted out your dad’s prize demon brood to threaten us?”

She laughed at that. “Dean wet himself.”

“He has so not forgiven you for that.” Sam looked around her living room and nodded. “How’s working going?”

“Slow. But with Cas here it’s not so lonely.”

“Who knew that running security systems from home could be so exciting eh?”

“Shut it, Moose. It’s just till I get another contract.” She huffed and looked up at her brooding angel. “What am I gonna do with you? I’m taking you for regular flights, we’re working on your recall, and still you keep acting like I’m gonna abandon you.”

“Well,” Sam started. He reached out and stroked Castiel’s head and amazingly the angel didn’t flinch. Instead he pushed into the touch. “He just needs some affection. Maybe just some stroking and good food will settle him.”

Sam leaned over and kissed her cheek in a brotherly fashion. “Stay out of trouble, Meg.”

She smirked. “Never.”

He laughed and Meg followed him to the door to lock him out.

A loud bang and rush of wings made her freeze. Then a solid weight hit her from behind and she whipped around to be crushed against the door by Castiel. He growled something unintelligible and his tongue rasped against her cheek as if to wipe off Sam’s kiss.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded, temper fraying easily. His mouth opened and she saw his tongue working quickly.

“F–f—f—f—“ He huffed. “Fuck.”

Meg blinked. “What did you just say?”

“Fuck-fuck-fuck.” He seemed absolutely delighted with himself and Meg could only stare. Her angel was trying to talk. She’d knew they could figure out speech but hadn’t expected it from him. Castiel’s wings flickered and knocked over her side table. “Fuck!”

“Yeah I get it.” Meg pushed at his chest and he leaned into her suddenly, resting all of his weight against her chest until she felt suffocated by his heat.

“Fuck,” he breathed against her neck and then he licked the spot he was breathing against.

Meg could only stare at him as he pushed away from her and returned to his nest. He plunked down with his back to her and curled up in a small ball, wing covering his face.

“Weird,” she muttered. Still, she beat a hasty retreat to her worktable and spent the rest of the afternoon ignoring the angel except to take him to the bathroom. Even when she fed him she felt absentminded and only stroked his head now and then as she passed. He carried on noisily, playing with his bed and showing all delight in playing with the silver coins she’d given him, but Meg only stared blankly at her screen and pretended to work. Even watching her soap operas brought no humour. Castiel watched them as if rapt and whined when she clicked it off.

“Too weird,” she said before retreating to her bedroom with an angel on her heels.

#

Eventually, she kept him locked out of her bedroom after the episode in the hall, despite how he whined and carried on. So it was natural enough that when she found herself coming down with a cold and not wanting to leave bed that his scratching at the door wore on her last nerve. It had dragged her out of bed for the last time. She shoved food in his dishes, set it on the table, and then retreated back into her bed to try to sleep off the headache and stuffy nose. She didn’t even check to be sure he hadn’t ransacked her living room.

Meg tried hard to sleep but the cold in her body made her long for a hot water bottle and some tranqs. The only saving grace for this sickness was that it gave her a reason to avoid her affectionate angel. The scratching at her door had stopped and she could hear him thumping around out in the living room. Flipping her pillow over her head, she closed her eyes and moaned in pain as her head throbbed despite the silence.

She must have drifted off because the sagging of her mattress woke up her up in a drugged haze. Warm arms wrapped around her tight and she felt something soft yet heavy drag up her body to cover her from head to toe. The blissful heat made her moan and turn around to come face to face with Castiel. He tilted his head on the side and through the darkness his covering wings had created, she saw his bright eyes swoop over her.

“Figured out the locks huh,” she groaned and closed her eyes. He leaned in and nudged his chin against her shoulder.

“Fuck?” he said. Meg chuckled and reached around him to scratch between his shoulders.

“Good boy,” she said instead and he huffed against her shoulder. Then she felt his teeth imprint themselves there. “I’m sick, stop it.”

“Fuck.” He dropped his head and she opened her eyes as he nestled his face between her breasts and sighed. Her heartbeat seemed to lull him to sleep and she felt the oppressive heat of his wings ease a little. Castiel’s hands clenched around her hips and dragged her close so that she fit every inch of him. The drugged feeling returned and she pressed her face into the pillow and fell back asleep to the feel of him nuzzling her.

#

She felt the change the second her body snapped awake. She had turned over in her sleep to rest on her stomach and she was covered from head to toe in wings that circled around her. Soft lips were nibbling down her back and she went rigid as hands joined them, stroking her. Curious sounds were coming from Castiel. As if he were confused by what he was doing.

Meg squirmed and turned over to see him braced over her. He blinked at her and then lowered his head until his mouth covered hers. He licked at her lips and made faint growling noises as he broke away from her.

They were angry noises. Meg stared into his eyes and realized that the whites had gone red and were leaking blood at the corners. “You okay?” she asked, petting his shoulder blades under the wingbone. He growled again and Meg felt his body lurch into hers, hard and wanting. “Oh no you don’t, this is wrong.” He did it again and again, as if chasing a release, and Meg felt pinned by his weight. But instead of easing his tension, it just escalated. He was shuddering and she could sense his pain. “Come on, Clarence, you need an angel, or a really hard pillow, not me.”

He groaned and the hands on her waist went down to grip her thighs tight. He began to lap and suck at her neck, pulling the skin taut and then biting down so hard she wanted to scream. But in between it dampness began to seep through her body in excitement. It was forbidden, logic told her. But oh it felt good too. She’d let him hump her leg, so to speak, that’d be all there was to it.

When she turned her head, she inhaled deeply and felt a shock go through her at his scent. It was like smoky lightning, like burning cookies, like…like… “Pheromones,” she whispered and knew in shock that her body actually liked the smell. Oh fuck, she thought, this is all kinds of wrong.

When she didn’t move, Castiel made a frustrated noise and suddenly scooted down on the bed to press his nose against her panties. He inhaled deeply and then began to lick at her through the fabric. Meg shifted a little, too startled to do anything but lay with her arms feeling weighted down and her body heavy with sleep. She heard his faint snuffling sounds, felt the rasp of his tongue and the weight of his body on her legs all as if in a dream. He made more noises, telling her his frustration, and reared back up with an intent look on his face. His shirt was already torn and Meg watched his wings snap about in his anger. Moving slowly so she didn’t startle him, Meg sat up and leaned against her headboard as she watched him struggle to convey what he wanted. Though she had a good hint; her panties were still wet from his sucking.

“Oh this is all kinds of wrong,” Meg repeated aloud and she put her head in her hands. Maybe this was why her father had always insisted on her training females, not males. She balled her hands in her hair and shook her head. But suddenly, gentle fingers grasped over hers and she heard a concerned grunt.

“Fuck?” Castiel parroted and he bent lower so he could look in her eyes. He nuzzled at her nose and hairline, sucking in deep breaths.

“Not what we should do, wings,” she muttered and she turned her head just as he licked her cheek. He murmured nonsense again, his favourite sound, and she felt his hands crawl down her thighs, squeezing and rubbing in turn until she found herself relaxing. He lowered his head again to her neck. Meg closed her eyes as the hands massaging her legs continued their passes.

“I’m going to hell,” she said. “So going to hell.”

She’d seen enough documentaries to know how this went and with a resigned sigh, she rolled to her stomach and pushed up on her hands and knees, intent on getting her spray bottle to ward him off. She froze when he caught her ankles in his hands and held her still. Only he didn’t leap on her. Instead, she turned her head to see him staring at her with clear confusion and desire. He almost seemed human then.

Then the red in his eyes deepened to near black and he launched forward, biting her at the shoulder his one hand grabbed a hunk of her hair. Meg froze and felt the bite soften a little and she whimpered at the pressure as he broke skin when he raked his teeth down to her back to the start of her camisole. He sucked and bit his way down her back before coming back up again. Startled, she hesitantly turned her head again just as he came up beside her. An arm clamped around her waist and he tugged her back so her ass was raised up against his hips and she could feel him throbbing against her backside. A slick of arousal pooled between her legs and she moaned when the hand around her waist went down to her underwear and tugged them to the side.

Yep, going to hell, she thought even as she lowered her face to the pillow. Castiel followed her down and whuffled in her ear as his wings dipped around them, encasing her in darkness. Through the softness and shadows, she could see her pale skin dampening with sweat and she sniffled. The sound broke his concentration and he stopped moving behind her. His frozen form felt stiff and she knew he was afraid.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her shoulder and she heard the rasp of fabric being moved. Then he was rising again and she gasped as he slid inside of her to the hilt in one stroke, the throbbing flared head of his cock rasping against her inner walls. Meg squeaked, the sound muffled by her arms, as he began to rock and move atop her with growing fervour, licking at her back and sucking purple bruises to the skin. His wings still covered them, hiding her from view the way he would have hidden his mate, and Meg sobbed in humiliation and pleasure. She was letting her angel fuck her. She was just as corrupt as her mother said she was. Castiel continued to thrust and hum with growing cadence, his fingers tight on her hair and pelvis to hold her to him. All of his weight was on her now and she felt her arms giving out.

“Just…Castiel…” she tried to form words he’d understand but his growls suddenly overlapped her voice and she found herself growling nonsensical things back at him, something he clearly enjoyed as he released her hair and reached down to grasp a breast in his hand. He sank his teeth sharply into her shoulder and Meg gasped, slamming her hand into the pillow under her head as he hit a spot inside her that she’d not expected. His hips angled sharply downward and she heard his wings rustling as his excitement grew, his delight in making her almost squeal showing as he sped his hips up and repeatedly hit the spot inside her that had made her react so violently.

“Don’t…don’t…” Meg struggled to get her arm free from under her torso. “Oh, fuck.”

“Fuck,” he repeated against the back of her neck and his wings suddenly bent and wrapped themselves tightly around her. With a startled yelp, Meg felt him drop all of his weight atop her and squish her into the mattress before rolling to the side and gathering her so close she was nearly immobile. His wings entombed her and she started to quiver as the hands sweeping over her body began to actually make her skin tingle. He was thrusting so hard her teeth were chattering now and with a long, drawn out moan, she leaned back into his arms.

“Castiel,” she whispered and she put her arm back around his head to draw him down. “Harder.” It was one of the few orders he obeyed without needing her to explain it. He simply slid his legs through hers and spread them wider as his hips pistoned against her ass, jarring her. Whatever instinct he was following was consumed with making her come and Meg was instantly sore from the pounding. She held the hand on her breast tight and closed her eyes as a riptide of sensation tore through her and left her breathless. Her body convulsed with pleasurable pulses and she moaned long and low at the feeling travelling through her. She felt him pause, and knew he was expecting some kind of noise. So she squeaked and he snapped his teeth tight around the juncture of shoulder and neck so hard that the skin burst with an immediate bruising. Throwing her head back on his shoulder, Meg screamed and heard an answering call from him as his hips slammed so hard against her ass that she bit her tongue.

He rolled her to her stomach and draped himself over her again, panting for breath and moaning as his cock surged once more against her and banged her cervix so hard she screamed again, digging her fingers into the feathers around her head. He keened low and the hands on her body continued to wander up and down her torso, cupping her breasts, playing with her nipples, delving between her legs. Anything to get a response from her and her body readily agreed. She was on the verge of coming again when he sank deep into her again and orgasmed with a low moan. Meg felt the wetness between her legs seeping out around their thighs and she bit into her upper arm as she followed behind him with a whimper.

He was heaving for breath, his wings uncurling to lie flat on either side of them, and Meg shuddered. His weight was stifling, his body bracketing hers in a protective blanket that was so hot her skin felt scalded.

She squirmed under his hold when it became too much but he didn’t release her. Instead, he clicked his tongue and ran his lips over her neck, licking at the bruises and cuts he had left. His mouth stopped at her cheek and he licked at the corner of her lips until she turned her head and kissed his cheek to calm him down. He froze again, startled by what she was doing. But when Meg moved her head back, he grasped her jaw and turned her toward him more fully so he could kiss her. It was sloppy and rough, more brutal than even she was used to, but she let him touch her to satisfy his curiosity.

When he finally moved down against her stomach so he was resting in her lap, Meg stared up at the ceiling. “You do realize I’m not an angel right and what we just did defied logic and species?” she asked.

Blue eyes rolled up to her and stared with far more intelligence than she thought possible. Gone was the animal. Instead she saw something so close to human it stole her breath. He’d known exactly what he had done.

“Go on, say it,” she ordered. “Because ‘fuck’ describes this perfectly. I’m fucked.”

He simply nestled his head against her breast and sighed out a single word, “Mine.”

Meg stared at the ceiling. “Oh, fuck.”

A cheery voice echoed, “Fuck.”


End file.
